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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27667055">Don't You Cry No More</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CiceroProFacto/pseuds/CiceroProFacto'>CiceroProFacto</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Eventual Smut, I'll probably butcher the lore bc I didn't care about this show for about 6 years before this month, Look. I just need to heal. don't judge me, M/M, Slow Burn, and then binged everything, just to be stabbed in the back, so this is a fix-it fic obviously</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:00:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,421</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27667055</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CiceroProFacto/pseuds/CiceroProFacto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester breaks Heaven. Turns out Castiel left out a key ingredient.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>67</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Are you there, Jack? It's me, dad.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> “I was certain that this was the answer.” Castiel bowed his head, folding his hands, arms propped up on his knees. Prayer was an act which, for an angel, was a request for instructions from higher headquarters. These days, Castiel tended to answer more prayers than make his own, but this was urgent and he required guidance. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The reality that Jack had created held many worlds. Most of which were barren, gravity-churned masses of gases and metals- much like the reality before. In fact, most of existence was entirely untouched- because if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Many planets within this reality held life, though most of it simply existed as an expression of energy transfer. Of all the planets that held life, Earth contained the single-greatest concentration of sentience, the divine energy in a living soul, making it an exceptionally-important assignment for an angel. In fact, Castiel had once been assigned here- on a mission with his Garrison, he had been given the vital order to protect Dean Winchester. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It was the only order he had successfully obeyed. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Now, Castiel only visited Earth to reminisce. A miracle or two- here and there, sure, but Earth was no longer his department. His work only regarded what happened to the souls that resided here after they left. But, Castiel was deeply sentimental, and of course, it didn’t hurt to see the world where the souls he was charged to protect came from. See the sights. Try the food. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Of the few things that Jack had changed about this reality, Earth was perhaps the most different. Jack had essentially pressed rewind on the planet, taking it back to the way it had existed before God began his rapture, the people who had lived at that time returned to their towns and cities, their lives resumed as normal. But- Jack had altered the environment of this planet, clearing the murky film of broken satellites and waste in the planet’s upper atmosphere, adjusted the chemical makeup of the ozone to reverse centuries of human industrialization, and reduced the overall temperature of the planet by just enough to buy humanity many hundreds of years of comfortable living. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Castiel had returned to the shore where he’d first landed on this planet, nearly four billion years ago now. The geography was much changed, of course. The beach under his feet had been thousands of miles in the direction humans designated as west- now open ocean. It was not the same beach that he had observed the ancient predecessor of humanity heave itself onto land. And he was not the same angel. Nothing was the same. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He had come here to reflect on that. How quickly events had come to pass- how quickly the situation continued to develop. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> When he spoke, it was to Jack, and unlike his Father, Castiel was sure his Son was listening, “When we constructed Heaven to receive human souls, we had specific orders from God. He determined that they must not be allowed to use their sentience to create new memories after they left Earth. I've lately wondered why that was- why He would insist that their lives must stop there, but I understand now. Their capacity to experience things so deeply requires a great deal of effort on our part to keep them contained once they realize they’re dead, and with this new system in place- they all know…” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> A strong wave surged up onto the beach, high enough to reach Castiel’s shoes and the bottom of his trousers. He didn’t move because- miraculously, the water would never reach his socks. “It hasn’t been an issue of keeping order- and I’m certainly not saying that the effort has not been worth it. With their free will in Heaven, the humans have created so much love. They have made us better by asking questions. We’ve organized reception areas, take recommendations, installed communication systems with residents, we’ve even helped organize the grief counseling services the humans run for themselves. We’re doing well. Everyone’s content, or at least...I thought they were. But…” Castiel hung his head, shaking it with a wistful smile on his lips, “Leave it to Dean Winchester to make me question everything.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He looked up, out over the ocean. Felt Jack listening. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Allow me to explain.” </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Under Pressure</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>______________________________________________</p><p>At the start, after the end, Castiel woke up in heaven.</p><p>Pristine white walls and bright white light- it was not where he expected to wake up upon summoning the Empty. He hadn’t expected to wake up at all. But, here he was, sat at the head desk, squinting in the light and when his eyes focused, “Jack…” and it all made sense. He smiled, hardly able to believe it, “You were successful.” God was gone, Jack was safe- so the Winchesters must be safe, and the world...</p><p>Jack’s grin was genuine- but different. Everything about him was...off.</p><p>“You’re…” Castiel squinted harder, “you’re not just you, are you?”</p><p>A shrug. “I’m still me. But, yes. I’m not <em>just</em> me anymore.” Jack looked at him, one brow raised as if in half-concern for what Castiel might be feeling. “Chuck and Amara, yes.”</p><p>“And you’re...okay with that?”</p><p>“I am.”</p><p>It was a lot of power to take on- a lot of responsibility, but Jack's tone was bright and upbeat and he usually had the simple honesty of most angels. Castiel believed him, so he let it be. “Sam and Dean…”</p><p>“They’re okay. I left them with a sense of peace,” Jack said, smiling wider. “Dean in particular.”</p><p>Castiel’s brow knit in concern. “Why? Was he-” then he answered his own question, “The way I left...”</p><p>Jack nodded and his smile faded. “He was...confused, I think- mostly. I left him with faith that you would be okay.”</p><p>Sure enough, Castiel couldn’t feel any pain, confusion or longing from Earth now- and he’d come to recognize Dean’s emotions well over years of the man praying to him both consciously and unconsciously. “So, you’re able to do that now?” he said, frowning. There were certain classes of angels that were specifically designated to influence human emotions- cupids, Fates, the concept was not foreign. But, even God Himself hadn’t been able to influence the Winchesters...</p><p>“They were open to it,” Jack said simply. “I have no desire to ever do it again.”</p><p>That simple honesty was there again, and Castiel relaxed. Jack was good. Jack would never intend harm to anyone- and now he had the power to prevent it. Castiel was just...so <em> proud</em>.</p><p>“But," Jack got up from the desk and walked around it to Castiel's side, shifting his hands nervously, "it was not entirely for their sake. Dean wanted you back and I would have taken you to Earth for him, but...” he held out a hand to Castiel who took it and stood, “I needed you here. I need your help.”</p><p>“Of course- anything," Castiel didn't hesitate.</p><p>Jack pulled him into a hug, burrowing into his chest and squeezing. Castiel hugged back.</p><p>...<br/><br/></p><p>The Empty was poorly-named for what purpose it was serving. Since the moment Billie sent Jack into that realm to absorb the shock of his celestial supernova, all the angels and demons had been awake in that place. It was far from quiet, and it was far from Empty. Castiel hadn’t really put much thought into that until he found himself leading the effort to ferry all the angels and demons out of it.</p><p>After all the animosity and rage, the Shadow was not pleased to see him again so soon. But, negotiations went smoothly after Castiel made his proposal. Jack’s being there certainly helped bolster confidence, but the outcome promised to be so mutually-beneficial, the Shadow stood down easily.</p><p>And, the work had begun.</p><p>There were many lessons that Castiel had learned over the last last decade that he’d spent with the Winchesters.</p><p>First and foremost: everyone deserves a chance to do better.</p><p>On Earth, it was far too easy to do your worst, but God had restricted life on Earth with an artificial scarcity in two key resources: love and divinity. Both of which Heaven had unfettered access to. So, Castiel began designing a structure which would optimize those resources in order to facilitate providing the souls that took residence in Heaven with the freedom to resume living.</p><p>Castiel’s Heaven would reward the love that a soul had felt on Earth- against all odds. When a person arrived, they'd be greeted by those people they loved most- the first ones in their hearts. As time extended, they would recall others that they loved- and gain access to their heavens as well. The landscape of their afterlife would change, grow, mapping itself to encompass all the people and places that they loved in life.</p><p>With an agreement reached, Jack created a door in the Empty and the Shadow began letting the Angels and demons out in the order which Castiel had requested:</p><p>Anna, Gabriel, Hannah, Balthazar, Gadreel, Rebecca, Akobel, Inias, Ezekiel, Samadrial, Benjamin, Elijah, Rachel, Muriel- Castiel gathered the first fifty Angels and briefed them on the changes already in place. Then ran them down with the rest of the plan:</p><p>Angels were not initially programmed to feel such a thing as love, but they were hardwired to respect it and certainly capable of understanding it. They would ensure the system ran smoothly in Heaven and safeguard any system that Jack supported. Programs would need to be put in place to acclimatize them to the new order of things, and following many battles and power-struggles over the last few years, to prevent in-fighting, Heaven would require rules that would manage and guide a population that was entirely unaccustomed to free will.</p><p>The initial crew would man the check-in process, welcoming all their brothers and sisters back from the Empty, and ensuring that everything ran smoothly to facilitate follow-on actions.</p><p>Next, souls of demons would be placed in simulated realities much like those that humans had received under God’s reign. However, rather than providing them memories of their happiest moments, those realities would provide the souls with moments of their greatest love during life- in hopes of encouraging rehabilitation and eventual movement to a human heaven.</p><p>There were some protests to that, but Castiel stood firm on this part of the plan.</p><p>He had seen demons change- Sam had nearly cured Crowley’s soul in his efforts of closing the gates of hell, and in the process, he had changed the landscape of hell from a place of constant and brutal torture to a filthy buerecratic nightmare. Arguably a lesser-evil. What Sam had not been able to see was the light in Crowley’s soul that he had been restoring. Demons were damaged- their ability to love was snuffed out when they were thrown to perdition, but their lives before that were not solely comprised of evil, and rather than destroy their remaining ability to feel love, Castiel wanted to restore what he could- if possible. If not, the demons’ souls would barely take up any space as they barely had any love to manifest. </p><p>Between organizing for angels and demons and their particular needs, the efforts would be ongoing, but when they were done, the Empty would be a reflection of its name- quiet. It would also be dramatically reduced in size.</p><p>Heaven needed the space for the upgrades.</p><p>Because, in addition to clearing out the Empty, Castiel wanted to make room for the souls in Purgatory. If the new mission of Heaven was to provide a place for the light of a soul- a place built entirely for love, it stood to reason that the souls of humans who had been turned into monsters in one way or another deserved a chance to enter.</p><p>With the plan briefed, Castiel’s team had broken up to their tasks.</p><p>Gabriel returned to the Empty to wake up their brothers and sisters one by one...making a few key exceptions. If anyone had an issue with returning to Heaven under the new regime, he was the best-equipped to deal with them.</p><p>Anna, Hannah, Akobel and Muriel led the effort to restructure the way that human souls experienced their Heavens, creating the systems needed to monitor their emotions, find the people they love, and provide them access to find one another.</p><p>Gadreel, Inias, and Ezekiel led the effort to create secure facilities to house the demons’ souls during their probation period. </p><p>There was policy-writing, resource allocation, designing and engineering efforts, a lot of leg-work to do and not enough angels left to begin to start. Jack didn't want to have too much of a hand in anything, and without him there, Castiel had the majority of the heavy-lifting. Bringing back the most decisive angels he could helped, but there were very few of their kind that had developed decision-making abilities. This work would take time.</p><p>Castiel was busy overseeing the check-in process, receiving his siblings as they arrived from the Empty- when he got the call, Bobby Singer’s contact buzzing on his cell phone.</p><p>At his side, Balthazar smirked to see him holding the device. “Never took you for the type to go native down there, not that I’d judge about that, but <em> Apple</em>?”</p><p>Castiel answered the call, stepping away.</p><p>“I know you’ve got your hands full,” Bobby said in lieu of a greeting, “but y’might wanna get over here. I’ve got someone who wants t’see ya.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A Tower of Babel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hannah is in her male vessel but uses she/her pronouns. There was no good way to have Castiel point that out while staying in character, so it's just a fact you should know for this chapter.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Time dilations always felt vaguely like the tingle one would get on their arms by rubbing socked feet on the carpet. Castiel only just now made the comparison, though he was very familiar with the sensation.</p><p>Individual heavens were often distorted to allow time to pass on Earth so that loved ones would be present. Opening the door to Dean Winchester’s heaven, Castiel wasn’t surprised that the place had leapt into the future to find Sam’s soul which would not depart Earth for another forty-three years. He <em> was </em> surprised that the place had manifested at all.</p><p>Because- if he was able to access Dean’s heaven through this door…Dean’s soul had departed Earth. Castiel flew into the Roadhouse, finding Dean inside the kitchen, wiping a plate dry. Which he turned around and promptly dropped to the floor- “Jesus, Cas!” He looked down at the shattered plate, sighing. “Well, took you long enough.” He swiped the dishtowel from the counter and stooped to start collecting the shards. “You missed the welcome party thing Bobby put on. But, there’s cake left if you want some.”</p><p>“<em>What </em> are you doing here?” Castiel demanded, voice hard, barely-contained fury.</p><p>Dean didn’t flinch- had never flinched in the face of angelic rage in life, why would he start in death? He just huffed and looked up, collecting the pieces of his plate into his hand. “What, did you think I’d end up in the <em> other </em>place?” he said, voice edged and sarcastic.</p><p>“There<em> is </em> no other place.”</p><p>That caught the man’s attention, brows jumping in surprise. He gathered up the shards in the towel and stood, “Hmm...that’s new.”</p><p>Castiel didn’t respond, just stared, frustrated.</p><p>Dean let him for several long moments before he cracked, setting the towel aside, “You’re burning holes in me, man. Just say it.”</p><p>His tone of voice indicated that Dean already knew why Castiel was upset, but- “A month!” it still should be said. “A <em>month,</em> Dean?”</p><p>“I know-”</p><p>“I gave my life for you to defeat God and against all odds you succeed only to die after a month!” It wasn’t enough time- not for Dean to enjoy the world he had saved, and not for Castiel to prepare Heaven to receive him-</p><p>“I know!”</p><p>“You were supposed to <em> live!" </em></p><p>“Cas!” Dean shut his eyes, setting the broken pieces of the plate on the counter and leaning forward to brace himself against it. “I know, okay? I know.” He took a shaky breath.</p><p>Castiel clenched his jaw, frustration draining into worry. He knew that Dean wasn’t here on purpose. He didn’t intend to blame him for his own death, but when a Winchester wanted to live, they tended to find a way. “Dean...”</p><p>“It just happened.” Dean shook his head, eyes pinching tighter. “I didn’t mean to,” the words tripped out like an apology. Another shaky breath then tears started to spill and Dean’s hand clenched over the counter. “I was just too tired to fight it…I just...”</p><p>Castiel grabbed his arm and Dean looked up to meet his gaze, eyes already red and seeking forgiveness. He pulled Dean into his arms, gripping him tight.</p><p>Dean’s hands clenched in the fabric at his back and the man shook with stifled laughter and crying. A dizzying mix of emotions. “C’mon, man. I wasn’t gonna do this.”</p><p>Wasn’t going to grieve the life he lost- of course he wasn’t. Dean always stifled himself with some misguided belief that his heaviest feelings had to be carried alone. So, “It’s normal,” Castiel said, stroking his hand steadily up Dean’s back. Dean needed to mourn, and Castiel intended to be right there beside him for it. “There were things that you wanted from life. It’s normal to need time to let that go.”</p><p>“Right…” Dean tensed a little and pulled away carefully. “Well, hey- you came all the way out here, stay for cake.”</p><p>“Dean, I don’t ea-”</p><p>“Okay, then watch <em> me </em> eat cake and tell me about all your shiny new upgrades around here.”</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>The central control room of Heaven monitored the distribution and networks that the residents were building. The system predicted the links that residents would soon make based upon the existing connections and associations that they held in life. For example, if a man reconnected to a friend from his high school track team, he was likely to seek out other teammates next. It gave Hannah and her team time to build links and ensure there would be fluid continuity to join the landscapes of those residents’ respective heavens.</p><p>Castiel had been visiting regularly to check in on the way that the program was functioning, but when the last of the angels had returned to Heaven, he was too busy to check in. Even with all of his brothers and sisters returned, there were not enough of them that had been trained or were capable of grasping the concept of free will in Heaven. The majority of the Host who <em> were </em> prepared to assume those roles were needed to answer prayers of the residents. </p><p>Because the residents <em> prayed so much. </em></p><p>It left a total of eight angels to lead all other efforts in drafting, design, and construction.</p><p>Castiel was reviewing the security plan for the proposed demon ward when Hannah knocked at the door to his office. He looked up from the files and stood to meet her at the door, giving a tired smile. “Hannah, how are you?”</p><p>“I’m well, Castiel,” he said, standing by at the door, posture formal as ever despite the obvious concern in her eyes. “How are you?”</p><p>It was a familiar conversation with Hannah, and Castiel knew that his friend would see through a lie, so- “I’m...busy.”</p><p>“Yes.” Hannah’s dark eyes softened like she understood. Castiel couldn’t stop to reflect on how much there was to do. There wasn’t time for that. But, “I wanted to show you something, if you have a moment.”</p><p>Castiel stood and followed her to the control room, expecting an emergency she needed him to resolve. Instead, she brought up the main screen and projected a familiar map, depicting the layout of Dean’s heaven. A network of souls, linked by threads of light like a universe of constellations. He raised a brow. Was she showing him this to comfort him? He was aware that Dean was here and was comfortable. He checked in on him often to ensure it- with every thread of longing that reached out to him from the other side of that door.</p><p>“It’s Dean Winchester’s heaven,” she said.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>Hannah must have detected a note of impatience. “You wanted to know if anything remarkable happened and well,” she gestured to the screen, “<em>This </em> is remarkable.” Castiel’s confusion played across his face and Hannah explained. “He’s only been here for a year and…” she motioned to the screen flicking through several other maps depicting heavens of new residents, having been in Heaven for an equitable time, their landscapes covering a fraction of the space that Dean had mapped, “his heaven has grown at a pace, multitudes beyond any other resident’s. I ran statistics, and his growth rate is beyond anything we could’ve reasonably expected.”</p><p>Castiel absorbed that information and he could feel himself smiling helplessly. “Well, Dean Winchester touched many, many lives...and he loved with abandon.” There was no surprise for Castiel. When Heaven was built on the love one felt for others, Dean Winchester would reach far and wide, sprawling across space and time.</p><p>“Yes.” Hannah gave him a weak smile, sympathetic. But, she had the hesitant expression of a subordinate, about to deliver bad news. “Well, Anna’s having a hard time keeping up with the construction. If we want to provide him the same quality of care, we’ll have to assign him a team of architects…”</p><p>Castiel knew it would be a tax on their already-overworked personnel, but- “Yes, anything he needs.”</p><p>Hannah nodded carefully. “Understood.”</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>“Y’know what’s really weird about this place?” Dean said, feet kicked up on the railing of his porch, a bottle of Coca-Cola in his hand. He hadn’t prayed for Castiel to come visit him so much as vaguely hoped for it.</p><p>So, here he was, busy schedule aside, hands folded in his lap, Castiel looked at Dean, interested.</p><p>“The way people aren’t like- how old you’d expect. I mean- Claire,” Dean tipped his bottle towards Castiel with a grin, “When I called her up a few months ago, she couldn’t’a been older than nineteen- I’m talking hightops and racoon eyes, but she still knew her whole life story and we got to talk about it.”</p><p>Castiel smiled. The architects had worked hard to allow each resident’s heaven to not only reach out to loved ones who had arrived in different temporal zones, but to project an appropriate image of that person’s age. If Dean saw Claire as a rebellious teen, she agreed to meet him that way- preferred it, and the idea of that was endlessly amusing. “Yes. She’ll live to old age,” Castiel said. Assuming she didn’t follow in Dean’s footsteps and start tampering with her own fate, but Castiel had faith that she wouldn’t. “She’ll overcome her anger and restlessness and settle into peaceful life.”</p><p>“One of us had to,” Dean hummed, and Castiel smiled. Dean had always seen a lot of himself in Jimmy’s daughter and the way that he’d adopted her so quickly laid the foundation for Castiel’s ability to take care of Jack. Dean was always an excellent role model for those who most needed it- whether or not he ever recognized that in himself. Dean cleared his throat, “Anyway, she’s got a place with Kaia up the road near Jody’s. Introduced her parents to them and everything. You should drop in, say hi sometime- she was asking about you.”</p><p>“She hasn’t died yet, Dean,” Castiel said.</p><p>Dean’s posture sunk a little as he understood. “Right.”</p><p>Castiel had explained this before- that he couldn’t access rooms that had not been occupied yet- that Dean was only able to do so in the confines of his own projection of them, but angels did not have a heaven of their own and would not experience it in the same way. It always seemed to bother Dean that Castiel couldn’t visit their friends in the same way he could.</p><p>“Well, when she gets here, yeah?”</p><p>Castiel inclined his head, “Of course.”</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>Leading archangels had become a familiar concept to Castiel. He was able to reconcile his memory of his older siblings and their primordial power with the authority he now had over them, but it was still unsettling to receive a summons from one, and walking into Raphael’s office to meet him still had him on-edge with a combative anxiety.</p><p>Seeing Gabriel at his side helped when he greeted Castiel warmly with a, “Little bro! Great, you came- so let’s get to it.” He rubbed his hands together, “Straight to business.”</p><p>“You wanted to talk to me.”</p><p>Raphael stood. “Yes. You understand my priorities are- and always have been- the safekeeping of God’s Will.”</p><p>Castiel raised a brow because- they had already had this discussion and agreed that a new God meant new priorities for Raphael to keep. And, since then, his old enemy had become one of Castiel’s most useful allies. Raphael had a steady, authoritative drive that kept their brothers and sisters focused and motivated in the reconstruction efforts.</p><p>“To that end, I understand Jack’s intent to provide the humans the greatest possible freedom here. However, our current allocation of resources is not sustainable.”</p><p>“What do you-”</p><p>“The prayers, Cas,” Gabriel said. He pushed himself up off Raphael’s desk where he’d been perched and he walked towards Castiel to stand face to face. “All these souls- knowing they’re in Heaven, knowing it exists- <em> we </em> exist, and can deliver pretty much anything they want…” He raised his brows as Castiel started to understand, “We don’t exactly have the wheels for same-day delivery. Not when everyone’s buyin.”</p><p>Castiel was viscerally uncomfortable with where this conversation was going, but if Gabriel was saying it, he knew it was unavoidable. “How much longer can we-”</p><p>“We can’t,” Raphael stopped him there. “Unless you want to call Jack and ask him to make more angels, we cannot support both the humans’ wish-fulfillment and your proposal to rehabilitate demons. We do not have the personnel required.”</p><p>Castiel looked away, biting his lip. He had spent weeks debating his brothers on the merits of providing space for corrupted souls in Heaven. He knew their feelings on the matter, and he knew that this concession was not optional…still. “I don’t like it.”</p><p>Gabriel grabbed his shoulder and squeezed. “Hey...you wanted them to have free will because you have faith that they can take care of themselves. Maybe this is how we let them.”</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>Weeks passed in a blur after that. Castiel expected riots, but it seemed like the humans hardly noticed the change. He suspected that his angels had been so slow to answer prayers in the first place, stretched thin as they were, no one was surprised with the lack of service.</p><p>He didn’t dwell on it. With the teams that had been designated to serve the humans reassigned to the construction force- phase two began: building the demon rehabilitation ward.</p><p>Between designing the structure of the containment centers and keeping his forces convinced of the value in the project, the efforts were demanding, intense, and Castiel missed sleeping. Despite not actually requiring it, the concept was increasingly desirable. Shutting oneself down for a few hours. Being unbothered by outside noise.</p><p>Ironically, he was starting to understand the Shadow’s perspective.</p><p>He was reviewing a stack of initial reports that would require his feedback when Anna knocked and let herself into his office, explaining, “I’m sorry. He wouldn’t stop interrupting me and I have other residents to take care of.”</p><p>Dean followed her inside, hands raised in mock-surrender, “Hey, I was just asking to see the manager.” He looked around at the office like he was vaguely interested in the space where Castiel worked. His eyes stopped on the angel and he grinned, wide and toothy in a way that made Castiel’s chest feel tight.</p><p>“This isn’t a hotel, Dean,” Anna said, gruff like she’d had this conversation with him before.</p><p>“I’ll say- the room service is terrible. I keep calling the front desk and he doesn’t pick up.”</p><p>“Castiel is busy.”</p><p>Dean looked at him, brows raised as if to confirm that for himself, and Castiel stood and stepped to him, grabbing his arm to lead him out of the office and let Anna carry on with her work. In the hallway, he dropped Dean’s arm and looked at him, “I <em> am </em> busy, Dean…” he said in way of apology.</p><p>“Yeah- no, I totally get that, of course. I just…” Dean blinked, glanced down and away- almost shy, “I’m wondering what the best way to reach you is cause I- I prayed…” he hesitated and wet his lips, “a <em> buncha </em> times, and-”</p><p>“And you thought I was ignoring you,” Castiel finished for him. Admitting that he felt abandoned was never easy for Dean, and Castiel appreciated the candor, deeply regretting to have caused that feeling.</p><p>Dean’s face fell- nervousness dropping away to confusion, “You...you weren’t?”</p><p>“Not intentionally,” Castiel admitted, and he frowned. He had anticipated that some humans may feel a loss of support from the Host when they retracted their ability to hear the humans’ prayers. He hadn’t considered that some humans had developed attachments to angels who had answered their prayers in the past. But, now that he thought about it, he was sure there had been others, reaching out to them in the way Dean did to him. “We had to stop receiving prayers from the residents in order to allocate enough forces to continue development efforts.”</p><p>Castiel had told Dean about all his most ambitious goals for this place, and he saw the understanding reach his friend’s face. The acceptance. He loved him for it.</p><p>“You have my number,” he said carefully, offering.</p><p>And, Dean’s expression broke- a moment of surprise, then relief, then unabashed amusement. “Yeah, Cas,” he laughed. “I have your number.”</p><p>Castiel smiled, and he truly meant it when he said, “I hope you’ll call.”</p><p>Dean shook his head, but he was still smiling in awe. His cheeks had flushed red and he reached up to clap a hand on Castiel’s arm, “Yeah...yeah, I’ll call you.”</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Prison Grove</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It didn’t take long for Dean to call.</p><p>A few days after Castiel had extended the offer, his phone vibrated on his desk, and minutes later he was in the passenger seat of the Impala, on his way to Sam’s heaven because Dean wanted to see if it was possible- if he could escort the angel to a part of Heaven Castiel had no ability to reach on his own.</p><p>He could.</p><p>Sam was happy to see Castiel again. Of course, in Sam’s timeline Castiel had visited many times, but he was happy to see the angel riding along with Dean, indulging him.</p><p>Dean got flustered when they described it that way, and Sam just smiled knowingly.</p><p>Castiel met Sam’s son- for the first time in his own recollection, but the man knew him well from future visits he would make. Eileen brought out beers and they pulled out tabletop games which Sam and his son had apparently enjoyed together during life. They made a night of it, talking and drinking and playing. But, after a few hours, watching Dean mess with his nephew, teasing and jabbing him lightheartedly, Castiel couldn’t help but miss Jack.</p><p>Being around people- this quiet life that they enjoyed here, the weight of Jack’s absence- of what Castiel was doing in Heaven, it all felt overwhelmingly heavy...</p><p>Somewhere on the other side of Heaven, two-million, five hundred thousand and ninety-six demonic souls were settled into the first compound of rehabilitation cells. It hadn’t taken long to move them from the Empty to their new resting place, but now the longest part began- the waiting. Locked in their best memories, it was out of Castiel’s hands whether or not the broken souls of those tortured in Hell could restore the spark of divinity that had once been a part of them. He wanted to have faith that the memory of love would be enough to save them, but until the first demon started waking up from their loop, he had no evidence.</p><p>Just hundreds of brothers and sisters he had worked to exhaustion for the sake of their most hated enemies. Just HR complaints up to his neck- AR complaints, he supposed.</p><p>He was so tired.</p><p>He didn’t mean to be unsociable, but between the aching in his own chest where his son should be, and the exhaustion from his work, he was retreating into himself.</p><p>Dean seemed to sense it, and he slapped his thighs, pushing up from the table to announce they were calling it a night. So, they wrapped up the visit, gave hugs and said goodbyes, and Castiel didn’t know how to express his gratitude beyond a simple, “Thank you,” which Dean waved away easily as he settled behind the wheel.</p><p>He started the engine and the Impala purred for him as it always would here.</p><p>The man was quiet on the drive back to the Roadhouse, but Castiel didn’t sense any discomfort.  Dean wanted to drive. The road extended itself in front of them, stretching the pavement and therefore stretching out the ride far longer than the drive out. Castiel pretended not to notice. Heaven was designed to provide its residents with a landscape that reflected their home, and this was Dean’s. This car. The open highway.</p><p>“Man, I hate this part of Texas,” Dean said.</p><p>Castiel glanced at him then returned his eyes to the night outside, the yellow lines flying under them. “No you don’t.”</p><p>He felt more than saw Dean smile beside him.</p><p> </p><p>Castiel woke up in a bed.</p><p>He had no recollection of falling asleep in the first place- nor any idea how Dean had moved him here from the car. But, sure enough he was tucked under a heavy blanket, soft flannel sheets under his hand. He could smell bacon- hear faint music drifting through the hallway beyond an open bedroom door. Sitting up, he pushed back the blankets, glancing around for his suit jacket and tie. But, before he could get up and dress himself, a creak on the stairs caught his attention and he turned to see Dean shouldering inside with a plate carefully balanced on his arm, a mug of coffee in hand.</p><p>“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he said, sarcastic- then noticed Castiel shifting his legs to get up. He set the plate down and put a hand to his shoulder, “Whoa, there- no. Y’look like hell, man.”</p><p>“Hell no longer exi-”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, c’mon. Relax.” Dean pressed a little harder to Castiel’s shoulder and the angel obeyed, allowing himself to lie back again, “You wanna tell me what’s up?”</p><p>“I’m not sure what you mean,” Castiel admitted.</p><p>Dean rolled his eyes, “Okay,” he said, and he sat on the edge of the mattress, looking at Castiel with his jaw set, eyes hard. “Let's break it down- Cas, you passed out in my car last night, and you don’t even <em> sleep. </em> Somehow things are so hectic you've had to shut down the angel-helpline, and the one time you come out to spend time with me and Sammy, you can barely talk. You’re running yourself into the ground...and frankly, there’s no need for it.”</p><p>“What do you mean there’s-”</p><p>“I mean we’ve done enough.” Dean leaned, bracing an arm over the blankets on the far side of Castiel’s hip, boxing him in. There was no anger in his posture, just urgency, but Castiel had no idea what for. “We saved the world I don’t even know <em> how </em> many times anymore- we ended God! You’ve fixed Heaven!”</p><p>Perhaps in some regards Heaven was repaired, but, “That’s not entirely true...”</p><p>“It’s true enough. Can you honestly tell me this place would fall apart if you delegated a few more things out to somebody else?”</p><p>“Well...no, my brothers and sisters are highly-capable of-”</p><p>“Okay!” Dean stopped him there, “So, we can take a vacation, right?”</p><p>“Dean...”</p><p>“Eat your breakfast,” Dean patted Castiel’s hip under the blankets and got up from the bed as if the conversation was over, “You and I are going to the beach. I’m thinking piña coladas and our toes in the sand- we deserve it. I’ll pack a lunch.”</p><p>Castiel’s protest died on his tongue because Dean left the room before he could get a word in.</p><p>He sighed. Of course he wanted to spend time with Dean. He wanted to relax and indulge in every way Dean proposed. But, if he allowed himself to have this- even for a moment, he wasn’t sure he’d be capable of giving it up…when duty called once again, or when Dean changed his mind or conjured up someone he’d want in <em> every </em> way that Castiel couldn’t satisfy.</p><p>Just because Castiel was capable of loving him- as much of a miracle as that was for an angel- it didn’t mean he’d ever be what <em> Dean </em>wanted. Sure, he could feel the love emanating off the man, but Dean loved so many people so fiercely, there was nothing to say that he’d set Castiel aside as important. There was no indication of that when angelic senses couldn’t differentiate between brotherly love like what Dean held for Sam and what Castiel wanted. And Castiel <em>wanted. </em>Things that would overwhelm Dean- things like a vast eternity beyond human comprehension.</p><p>Before Castiel could grapple with that old line of contemplation, his phone buzzed on the nightstand by Dean’s bed. A message from Gadreel at the rehabilitation compound…an urgent message.</p><p>Their first resident demon was awake, and it was an old friend.</p><p>Castiel dressed quickly and made his way downstairs, going straight for his trenchcoat by the door.</p><p>“Whoa! Hey, where’re you-?”</p><p>“I have to go-” Castiel stopped for a moment in the doorway because- the look on Dean’s face. The man was standing behind the kitchen counter, a butter knife in hand where he’d been making sandwiches, brows pinched and lips parted in open <em> hurt.</em> Then it tightened, mouth pinched closed and he clenched his fist against the counter. “Dean,” Castiel fought the urge to turn around and walk back, “I’m <em> sorry</em>-”</p><p>A hand raised, cut him off- “Nope. I got it.” But, Dean wouldn’t look at him.</p><p>Castiel had to go.</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>Months passed. More demons emerged from their cells, slowly. All lesser-order stock, but Castiel took every one as a victory. Gadreel maintained a strict security posture over the compound, but with Meg’s help, they were quickly indoctrinating the rehabilitated souls to the new order of things.</p><p>The former-demons’ footprint remained small- many of them had destroyed the majority of the chances that they’d had for love in their lives, but the program began its next phase smoothly with the first few demons successfully occupying their own heavens.</p><p> </p><p>Next was Purgatory.</p><p> </p><p>Months turned into years. Which quickly became a decade. In the scale of Castiel’s long, long life, it was only a moment, but it felt like forever. Still, even as busy as he was, not a day passed that Castiel didn’t look at his phone- Dean’s last message to him, an invitation he never truly accepted- and feel regret.</p><p>The worst part of it was knowing that he could return at any time and Dean would welcome him. Treat him like he never left. Treat him like a long lost brother, despite feeing so much <em>more, </em>and Castiel would do his best to be content- to let Dean be comfortable. But, the day that Dean’s heaven reached out for Lisa Braeden- who would not die for another seventeen years, Castiel cried for the first time since he’d summoned the Empty.</p><p>He didn’t know much about being in love. Angels weren’t designed to have a heart in the metaphorical sense, but he was certain this is what it felt like to have one break.</p><p>And, the longer that time extended, the more hazardous it would be to return. </p><p>Because every soul’s heaven reached a plateau. A point at which it’s expansion to join with others puttered to a stop and the soul was content. Whether it was decades or centuries away, eventually the day would come that Dean would have everything his heart wanted- every<em>one</em>. Castiel could go to him, but Dean would be no happier than he already was. Perfectly content with or without him.</p><p>Contentedness was kinda the <em> point </em> of Heaven, and for all that it hurt like a bleeding open wound, Castiel could not help but want that for him. He braced himself for it, hoped that it might gut this feeling out once and for all, or at least shatter him completely.</p><p>He hadn’t made room in his mind for any other way Dean Winchester might make him hurt. He’d never imagined this.</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>It was a normal day in his office. The initial workload of designing and rebuilding Heaven had eventually calmed down, leaving Castiel with the simple but vital task of approving transfers from the probationary ward to mainside Heaven. It involved negotiations for space, sometimes moving residents. Since that effort required so much work, all conflicts on that topic came through him directly.</p><p>Anna knocked on his door, letting herself inside. As an architect, she often brought such conflicts to him, but something about her expression told Castiel that today was different. “It’s Dean Winchester,” she said. “You need to come see this…”</p><p>Castiel followed her to the central control room where Hannah and Anael were already working over a projection, rubbing their temples. Hannah had performed the remarkably-human act of biting the eraser off a pencil. She looked up at Castiel as he came inside and her frown deepened.</p><p>At his side, Anna grabbed his hand before he could move into the room to see what was worrying his sisters so deeply, “Say you won’t do anything rash,” she said.</p><p>Castiel looked at her, opened his mouth, then closed it. This was Dean Winchester. He honestly couldn’t make that promise- just moved to the other side of the table.</p><p>Hannah expanded the projection across the main screen, and Castiel looked at it. He could feel her eyes on the side of his face as he absorbed the information he was seeing. The map of of Dean’s heaven...it was… “Are you sure? This trajectory is…”</p><p>“I’ve run the numbers a dozen times,” Hannah said. “It’s accurate- he’s held at this growth rate for years. We've been concerned about it for awhile, but it wasn't an issue until...well, with the success of your rehabilitation program…”</p><p>“It’s not sustainable,” Anna said.</p><p>Castiel could see that.</p><p>Dean was going to push the territory of Heaven into the boundary of the Empty. Between the expansion that they were making for those souls that were healed from Hell- and the growth of those human heavens, like Dean's, that were joining with souls that did not technically have a residence here yet, forcing them to manifest. They were expanding faster than they'd projected- faster than Castiel had planned for.</p><p>“The obvious solution would be discontinuing your demon rehab program,” Anna said. “But, I know your stance on that, and I don’t disagree with it.” She moved to the side of the table and leaned forward to catch Castiel’s eyes, hold his gaze. “The only alternative is shutting him down- he’s accessing too many lives that are not in Heaven yet, and it's going to make us breach our agreed-upon boundaries.”</p><p>Sam, Claire, Lisa, Ben...some of the most important people in Dean’s life. All the people he saved throughout the years- all those lives that were still on Earth <em> because </em> of Dean...Castiel couldn’t make him give them up. “I’ll get us more space.”</p><p>“From where? The Empty?” Hannah said, eyes widening.</p><p>Castiel didn’t have to answer.</p><p>Anna sighed.</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>The Shadow did not appreciate being woken up. Proposing an amendment to their contract nearly had Castiel trapped in that realm once again, and he returned to Heaven after a fight that left him weakened and conflicted.</p><p>He took a few days to heal in the infirmary then made the walk down a familiar hall...where he swore he wouldn’t go unless called- which he had lost hope for years ago.</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>If possible, Dean was even less happy to see him than the Shadow had been, and somehow, Castiel wasn’t explaining the situation clearly. </p><p>“So what- this is an eviction notice?” Dean was chopping wood in the yard outside the Roadhouse, sleeves pushed up his forearms and a fine sheen of sweat starting to gather at his hairline, and it stuck up like he'd obviously been pushing his hands through it. His cheeks were faintly-stubbled like he usually put in the effort to shave but hadn't had a reason to in a few days. He was relaxed and domestic and...unfairly beautiful. Despite the anger. "<em>You</em> said that the point of this place was connecting with the people you love, but you're cutting me off because I care <em>too much</em><em>?"</em></p><p>“Of course not.” Castiel registered a chill in the air, and the leaves on the trees surrounding the property were turning shades of orange and red, simulating autumn. Dean situated another log for his axe and Castiel wet his lips, considering his words carefully. "I won't restrict you, I have no intention of that."</p><p>Dean's brows leapt at that, like he was amused Castiel was pretending to control the situation.</p><p>As belittling and frustrating as that was, Castiel didn't come here to fight. After years of missing this man, he just wanted to make this right for him. It's what Dean deserved. "I only thought you should be aware of the situation as the problem does pertain to you."</p><p>"Oh," Dean laughed bitterly, “I get it. This is the landlord telling me it’s my fault the roof’s caved in." He swung the axe, splitting his log clean, then turned and looked at Castiel, jaw set, "You wanted to do everything yourself. Fix your mess, Cas.”</p><p>Dropping his axe, Dean gathered up his pile of firewood and Castiel watched him stomp away to the house. </p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. An Unhuman Search</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hesitation to act did not bode well for Heaven when Hannah’s projection came to pass. The outermost ward breached the boundary that Castiel had negotiated with the Shadow, and Emptiness flooded through the halls, swallowing up several angels.</p><p>Castiel’s brothers and sisters wanted him to pray for a solution.</p><p>Instead, he pulled a card from the Winchester playbook.</p><p>He made a deal.</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>“Castiel. When I told you about Dean’s little problem, I asked you not to do anything rash.” Anna caught up with him, walking at his side. “Why do you think I had to ask?” </p><p>He quickened his pace. Not in the mood to be lectured.</p><p>“We hardly have enough angels to maintain security over the <em> current </em> demon ward after you convinced us to take three-billion souls from Hell, but storing the rest of the souls from the Empty too...this isn’t a matter of space, Cas, if those souls somehow get out-”</p><p>“The Empty was tearing through Heaven. We were well beyond a measured solution,” Castiel said, voice gruff and impatient.</p><p>“I’d hardly call it a <em> solution</em>…”</p><p>Castiel stopped at the door to the conference room and turned to Anna, “If you save your scathing comments for the counsel, I’m sure everyone would love to hear them,” he opened the door and gestured for her to lead the way inside. Once she’d passed him, he muttered. “I’d prefer to do so only once.”</p><p>The Host was rightfully frightened.</p><p>Castiel took his spot at the head of the table, his siblings all seated. Their conversations stopped, and he had their attention to explain- though most of them already knew. “Given recent events, we will require additional security on the Demon Ward.” No one said anything, but the tension in the room was palatable. A few angels were glaring. “I accepted the remaining demonic souls from the Empty because it was the <em> only </em> way to stop the incursion. If the Shadow is able to sleep, it won’t bother us...”</p><p>Maybe Castiel’s tone had become defensive, but he wasn’t expecting an answer.</p><p>But, Anael stood up, fingertips pressed to the table. “No one’s upset that you made a decision,” she said. “We're upset because- if you knew this would become an issue- you should’ve consulted us sooner.”</p><p>A few nods of agreement around the room, a heavy silence, and Castiel was effectively admonished.</p><p>He had encouraged his brothers and sisters to take on responsibilities that were foreign to them, created a system that taught them to learn their own strengths and weaknesses as individuals and apply their talents to the betterment of Heaven. Anael was specifically employed in negotiating allocations of space. As a businesswoman, she had a knack for it, and Castiel could understand the hurt she felt in not being consulted with such an important deal.</p><p>So, “You’re right,” he said. “Heaven runs on our power- <em> our </em> grace, and so we all should have a say in how it’s used. I should have consulted you all in this. I’m sorry that I didn’t, but I’m consulting you now.”</p><p>A novel concept in Heaven. Democracy.</p><p>Castiel was a middling-stock angel. His grace was nowhere near as potent as an archangel’s, but he had more power than the cherubs and cupids. The rank that he had earned for himself before his assignment to Dean Winchester he had reached through utter effectiveness as a weapon- as a leader. That was to say- he was capable of measured decision-making to accomplish prescribed missions. His brothers and sisters knew that about him. But, they also knew how muddled that ability had become as a direct result of Dean Winchester. Over the decades since Castiel had raided Hell and raised the Righteous Man, the Angel of the Lord became the Angel of Free Will, and when he reflected on what that meant for him as a being designed to serve a purpose, what purpose it truly was that he served...</p><p>It was love. It was always, <em> all </em> just...love.</p><p>Love had changed him, and so when Jack entrusted him to change Heaven, of course he built it with love- with faith in that feeling, he built it to reflect everything he had learned from Dean.</p><p>But, his brothers and sisters were learning too. They had picked up valuable insights in the battles that had recently resolved, the time that had passed since God was defeated.</p><p>“Heaven is still expanding too quickly,” Castiel said. “Between the rehabilitation of corrupted souls and the expansion of the human residences, we will move beyond our ability to power this place and we will break into the Empty again…” This was common-knowledge at this point. Hannah had shared her projection with the Host and everyone was aware of the stakes. With that in mind, “I would propose that we consider restrictions.”</p><p>A heavy beat passed. It was the last thing anyone expected to hear from him.</p><p>“Restrictions such as what?” It was Raphael who stood up first. Brow knit and eyes narrowed.</p><p>There was no doubt that the archangels’ influence over Heaven had been reduced in the new order, but all pride aside, Raphael understood Jack’s intent with Heaven, and he had supported Castiel to that end. An angel who had, against all odds, grown the capacity to truly feel <em>love</em>, had to be regarded as the resident expert in what their new God wanted. But, if Castiel was going to threaten that effort...</p><p>He didn’t have any intent to, “A restriction on souls that have reached their plateau…” he said carefully. Which earned wary looks, slow comprehension on his brothers’ and sisters’ faces. The meter-readers were familiar with this concept. It was the pride of their lives when a soul reached that point of perfect bliss, and in this new construct of Heaven, it took longer for them to get there, making that moment all the more satisfying. But, once they'd reached it- “Their heavens continue to expand despite providing them no additional happiness. I would propose that, once a soul shows signs of settling, we cease our construction.”</p><p>Obvious discomfort settled through the conference room. Awkward silence as if no one wanted to speak up in protest, but looks flashed across the room between Castiel's brothers and sisters.</p><p>Then, a laugh. “Let me guess. This is because <em>Dean Winchester</em> hasn’t reached that ‘plateau’,” Naomi said, giving air quotes with her fingers. She settled Castiel with an icy look. “You’re proposing the only solution that doesn’t resolve the part of this problem that you’re unwilling to face.”</p><p>“It’s not the only solution.”</p><p>In the corner of the room, Meg was leaning against a wall, arms folded over her chest. She raised a brow at the attention that her comment earned from the Heavenly Host, unimpressed. Most of the angels hated her presence in the room, but as an expert on the Demon Ward who helped provide tips for its security, she had a place at the table.</p><p>Seeing no immediate comprehension, she stood up and looked at Castiel. “The human souls aren’t the only ones making this place expand, right? You guys have a line of elligible former-demons down the block, waiting for you to build them a place to stretch the Free Will muscles. But, I can tell you- the greatest hits edition of heaven that they're in now is a hell of a lot better than what they had before...it’s not gonna hurt anyone to put them on pause there and use the space for people who actually earned it.”</p><p>Castiel had considered what Meg was suggesting.</p><p>But, he had worked so hard to get his siblings to buy off on the Demon Ward in the first place, he’d been afraid to pause the program for fear of not being able to resume.</p><p>Hearing the idea suggested by someone who had been personally-saved by it lent some hope that everyone’s priorities were aligned.</p><p>A fond smirk tugged at Meg’s lips and it did uncomfortable things to Castiel’s chest. She shrugged, “Hey, if he won’t say it then I will.”</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>When Hell had closed its doors, Rowena Macleod had earned herself a place in Heaven’s rehab center. It hadn’t taken her long to graduate with honors and move in on Mainside, a comfortable nook in Heaven's sprawling infrastructure. Never one to settle, she spent most of her time there writing her own spellbook, experimenting and developing. When Castiel needed advice about the magic around the Demon Ward’s security, he visited her heaven for access to both her expertise and Crowley’s- though Crowley wouldn’t have his own heaven for another two-hundred thirty-seven years.</p><p>Maybe it was guilt that had Castiel knocking on her door, explaining why the rehabilitation program was put on pause. He felt she should hear it from him. Rowena didn’t seem upset- Crowley seemed to find it amusing, but as Castiel continued to explain Heaven’s predicament, he too was concerned. Turned out, when Heaven was built on love, Crowley had to come to terms with a lot of confusing emotions surrounding Dean Winchester. Castiel could understand the feeling.</p><p>“You realize this isn’t going to solve the problem…” Rowena said, frowning. At her side, Crowley was breaking the delicate bones of a salamander, adding them to her mortar bowl.</p><p>“I know,” Castiel said. “But, it’ll buy me time.”</p><p>She hummed, low in her throat and looked at him, somewhere between sympathy and pity. “Well, good luck, Castiel. I mean that.”</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>Dean’s routine in heaven was consistent. He would wake up. He would walk Miracle, make breakfast, clean. Then he would drive. Baby would bring him to old acquaintances and he would visit with them for some indeterminable amount of time that would always end up being exactly a day by the time he returned to the Roadhouse. His heaven remained the open road. A road that just kept stretching. A decade of this habit, and he’d sprawled the entire continental United States, into Quebec, Ontario, and parts of Mexico.</p><p>From Heaven’s control room, a team of architects and engineers churned out proposals for how to best fit the shapes of Dean's multitude of heavens into as little space as possible.</p><p>A game of high-stakes cosmic Tetris.</p><p>Castiel was concerned about that, of course. But he was moreso concerned when the meter readers reported their latest numbers. A graph of Dean’s exponential growth was overlaid with the charts measuring his happiness: a parabola that was dipping down past its peak...</p><p>A Heaven built on love was a gamble- Castiel could understand how the feeling bloomed inside a person, how it burned and soothed and ached and healed, how it could fill them up and make them whole, then in the very next breath leave them gutted. Love was not just a victory march- the cold and broken Halleujah. All that. But so far, despite that duality, despite the pain that walked hand in hand with love, the residents were happier overall.</p><p>Every report he'd received for years had indicated as much. Castiel had such <em>faith</em> in freedom...and yet- the man who'd taught him that faith was not content with it.</p><p>Muriel had been the guardian of human emotions before the Fall, and in the new design of Heaven, she continued to measure and record the statistics of spiritual fluctuations. Mapping the souls’ heavens out like this, she could monitor how happy they were. Or how unhappy. “There’s always some fluctuation once a soul’s reached it’s optimal state, but…”</p><p>“But this is a vertex,” Castiel finished. A change in direction on a map of Heaven’s attempt to make Dean Winchester happy...</p><p>“Definitively.”</p><p>"So he's...not improving."</p><p>"Dean Winchester isn't just not improving," Muriel said, frowning, "...he's declining."</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>The Winchester brothers held the running record of death dates on the doors to their individual heavens. Not that anyone was keeping track- well, Castiel was sort of keeping track.</p><p>Sam Winchester’s final resting date was still thirty-one years away, a couple more dates in-between now and then, but when did a Winchester ever go easy? The nearest date when Sam would check in and back out was in two years, so the door was locked as Castiel stood next to it.</p><p>There was another way to see him though.</p><p>...</p><p>Bobby’s heaven was the auto shop. A nostalgic place that Castiel didn’t visit often, though it was the first one he’d checked on in person when Heaven had been restructured. At the time, he'd been curious, wanted first-hand accounts from residents to ensure that things were functioning as intended. Since then, he'd been distant. He knew that. His 'people skills' were rusty, and he didn’t mean to visit his friends only for advice, but when Bobby answered the door and let him inside, it was clear that the hunter expected it.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I…”</p><p>“You’re worried about Dean,” Bobby said.</p><p>Castiel’s thoughts stalled out- how the hunter could’ve known that alluding him, but- “Yes.”</p><p>“Sit,” Bobby pulled out one of the padded metal chairs at his pull-out table. “I’ll call Sam.”</p><p> </p><p>Sitting at Bobby's table, whisky glass in hand for the sake of humoring sociability, Castiel explained the situation while Sam and Bobby listened. He wasn't surprised that they had noticed something was wrong with Dean. He didn't expect Sam to start...laughing about it.</p><p>Deep, from the chest, legs kicking out under the table and practically snorting on every other breath.</p><p>Castiel stared, appalled, “This is...funny to you?”</p><p>“Well, yeah, Cas!” Sam put a hand to his chest, wheezing. He set his bottle down on the table, “I mean- no. No- it’s not. It's Heaven and Dean should definitely be happy here, I’m not saying it’s funny that he’s not, just…” He exchanged a look with Bobby who glanced back at Castiel and shrugged like he sort of agreed with Sam but had no intention to explain this outburst. Sam did, of course- "I mean, c'mon- you finally get to fix Heaven. That's like the biggest win I can imagine for you, and <em>Dean</em>'s the one ruining your streak! By being moody!"</p><p>"This is serious, Sam," Castiel said. "It's not about my 'streak', it's about Dean."</p><p>"Yeah," Sam's voice softened, fingers idly tapping against his bottle. "I get that. But, it's <em>Dean</em>. I'm sure he's okay. He's always okay."</p><p>Castiel opened his mouth and closed it, incredulous. Of course Sam should know- being <em>okay</em> was not the point of this place.</p><p>Bobby put a hand on the angel's shoulder and squeezed, reassuring. "He's probably just lonely, Cas."</p><p>Across the table, Sam nodded.</p><p>And, Castiel resisted the urge to baulk at them. Their confusion could be excused, considering that they had no ability to see how expansive Dean’s heaven had become, but Castiel could say with confidence, “It’s certainly not lonliness.”</p><p>Sam’s brows jumped, “Really? What makes you say that?”</p><p>“Well, Dean’s heaven has grown to encompass the landscapes of nine-thousand and fifty-three people whom he loved in life to some extent," Castiel explained. "The primary method of reaching contentedness here is connecting with those you love, but despite Dean's...<em>rapid</em> networking, he isn't getting happier."</p><p>“So what? He's got a lot of friends- still sounds like he's lonely t'me,” Bobby said. He drained his glass and picked up the bottle to pour himself more whiskey. Looked at Cas, brow raised. “C'mon, feathers, haven’t you ever felt alone in a crowded room?”</p><p>Castiel squinted because the phrase contradicted itself.</p><p>But, Sam explained, “Like you’re surrounded by people, but you’re different from everyone else…”</p><p>“I’m a celestial being that walked among humans for decades...”</p><p>“Right. Well, maybe Dean’s feeling kinda like that.” Sam said. “I mean, Cas- think about it. After the stuff we’ve been through, Dean’s not just gonna be able to relate to every Lisa and Cassie he cared about before. No matter how much he loves them, they can’t understand the stakes we were faced with. Hell- most <em>hunters</em> can’t even understand. Our own mother took one look at our lifestyle and went howling for the hills until she got a good adjustment period. I'd be willing to bet that it <em> bothers </em> Dean. Even if he won’t show it.”</p><p>It was such a basic concept, Castiel couldn't believe he'd overlooked it. But, now that it was there, it was so easy to see. “You think he needs someone who can recognize his accomplishments in order to be content.”</p><p>Sam picked up his bottle, bringing it to his lips to press down a smile, “I think he needs <em> you.</em>”</p>
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